Alex didn’t blame her. But the idea that his bride was unsure of him and his reasons for marrying her stung. He was, after all, the man who had come to her rescue. Couldn’t she recognize a hero when she married one?
“Lord Courtland? Alex?”
He left off his woolgathering to find Liana gazing at him. “Yes?”
“Have I done something to upset you?”
He cocked his head as if he hadn’t heard her correctly. “Why do you ask?”
“You’ve been frowning at me for the last few minutes.”
Alex realized he had been sitting on the edge of his seat, absently glowering at his bride. He settled back against the squabs. “Forgive me. I have a few pressing matters weighing on my mind and was attempting to sort them out.”
“Am I one of the pressing matters weighing on your mind?”
Once again, he was intrigued by her tantalizing mix of innocence and wisdom, and her forthright manner. Alex remembered marveling at the way she’d stood her ground against Felix Rather Mean at St. Bartholomew’s Chapel. At the time he’d been concerned about the consequences of her bravery, but now that she was safe and married to him, Alex could appreciate her straightforward manner. He spent a great deal of his time practicing deception and dissembling in his work for the League and had learned to despise the coy games so many women of the ton played every day. He was pleased to discover Liana took after her brother and her mother in more than looks.
He decided to be equally forthright. “The most pressing one.”
A perplexed frown marred Liana’s smooth brow. “In what way?”
“In every way.” Alex pulled a wry face. “I didn’t expect to bring home a marchioness quite this soon. And I don’t know quite know what to do with her.”
“Fair enough,” she told him. “I don’t quite know what to do with myself. Or the fact that I’ve unexpectedly acquired a husband.”
“If that’s the case, imagine how the staff of the Abbey will feel when we arrive.”
“I take it the staff hasn’t been prepared for our arrival.”
He gave a little snort. “I doubt very seriously if the Abbey staff will be prepared for my arrival. I haven’t been there in six months.” Not since he’d made a brief stop there on his way to and from Scotland for a private mission on Colin’s behalf.
“I can’t believe you keep household staff for a home you haven’t visited in half a year,” Liana said. “That’s terribly expensive.”
“Not only is there a household staff on duty, there’s a full complement of gardeners and stable boys as well.”
“That’s even more expensive,” she said. “We live in London all year long and we don’t have a butler or lady’s maid or valet. Our cook comes in on half-days three times a week and a housemaid comes in on Thursdays to help clean.”
“Who does the cooking and the household chores the rest of the time?” Alex asked.
“We do,” Liana answered. “Only three of us take all our meals at home. The boys are away at school and Papa takes most of his meals at his club or elsewhere. Maman, Caroline, and I don’t require much.”
Alex was stunned. No wonder Caroline had been so excited by the prospect of cake and punch and sweet meats at the wedding breakfast. He’d had no idea Lady McElreath had been forced to economize in such a deplorable manner. And he was equally sure Colin was unaware of it. “What about the money Colin gives to your mother? I’m sure he believed it adequate to cover her household expenses.”
Liana took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “It’s more than adequate. But with Colin and Gillian out of the country at present, Maman has been forced to use it to pay our creditors and for my season.” She looked down at her gloved hands. “The shopkeepers wouldn’t extend credit for my third season until all our debts were paid from the second one.”
“I thought Colin paid for your seasons.”
“He did.” Liana lifted her head to meet his gaze. “Colin is the most generous brother in the whole world! He paid for every expense connected to my two seasons. Clothes and accessories for me and Maman and Caroline as well—even though Caro isn’t out yet. He pays our rent and he pays for Malcolm and Geoffrey’s schooling. But Papa has expenses and Colin won’t lay out a cent for Papa’s drinking and gaming.”
“Yet, your father continues to drink and gamble.” Alex frowned. “What does he use for money? He’s pawned everything of value he can get his hands on.”
“Maman,” Liana whispered. “Drinking and gaming are Papa’s weaknesses. Papa is hers.”
Alex met her gaze. “That’s why your father was so surprised to see the Courtland betrothal ring on your finger.”
“I didn’t intend to hide it,” Liana explained. “I would have worn it proudly, but I had to pull my glove over it because it’s loose on my finger and I didn’t want to risk losing it.” She tugged off her glove and held her hand out to him so Alex could gauge the looseness of the ring. “When I saw the way Papa was eyeing the earrings, I was afraid he might claim the ring for safekeeping or pretend to take it to a jeweler to have it adjusted and I would never see it again. So I kept my glove on and didn’t take the earrings out of my ears.” She shook her head slightly to set the pendant earrings dancing. “Not once. I told Papa they were on loan from the Duchess of Sussex.” She bit her bottom lip. “I didn’t lie. At the time I thought they were Miranda’s.”
“We planned it that way,” Alex admitted. “For just such a reason.”
“I suppose everyone in the ton knows.” Liana’s cheeks were awash with shame.
“Not everyone.” Alex didn’t exactly lie. He supposed there might still be a few people in the ton who didn’t know how far the Earl of McElreath had fallen.
“You knew. And the duke and duchess knew.”
“Only because Colin needed help securing a betrothal ring for Gillian after your mother told him the only McElreath jewels left were the rings on her finger.”
“Colin would never take those. They’ve never been off Maman’s finger.”
Probably for the same reason Liana had hidden her betrothal ring beneath her glove. Lady McElreath didn’t trust her husband not to pawn them. But Alex didn’t feel the need to point that out. “Right.”
Liana groaned. “That means when Maman and I wear jewelry to the Season’s functions, everyone knows it is paste.”
“They’ll know better the next time you attend a society function.” Alex reached out and touched her left earlobe, setting the emerald and diamond earring hanging from it dancing once again. “We’ll have your wedding and betrothal rings adjusted to fit your finger as soon as we return to London. We can trust Dalrymple to do it quickly and expertly.” He smiled at her. “I’ll open an account for you there so you may purchase pieces for yourself and gifts for your mother and Caroline whenever you like. From now on, everyone in town will know every piece of jewelry you wear is real. All I ask is that you collect any of the hereditary jewels you lend to your mother or sister at the end of the evening. As a precautionary measure.”
His answer surprised Liana. She had expected automatic opposition to the idea of her lending anyone jewelry belonging to his family. “You don’t mind if I let Maman or Caro wear pieces from the Courtland collection?”
“The jewelry belongs to the Marchioness of Courtland. That’s you, Lady Courtland.” He grinned. “You’re welcome to loan it to anyone you like, but remember the hereditary pieces are part of the estate like Courtland Manor and Greneleafe Abbey and our London townhouse—only ours during our lifetime—held in trust for the future marquess and marchioness.”
Liana nodded. “You can be sure I’ll take very good care of it. It won’t fall prey to my father’s avarice the way Colin’s inheritance did.”
Alex’s gaze locked with hers. “You don’t have to convince me of your integrity, Liana. I’ve never doubted it. Nor do I doubt that your father is your mother’s weakness, not yours. Standing up to Rothermere in the chapel this morning took cour
age. I couldn’t believe my eyes or my ears when I saw you, a slender willow of a girl, defying Felix Rothermere.”
“What courage?” she scoffed. “I swooned.”
“A natural reaction when one is under great distress.”
“Have you ever swooned?”
He gave a self-deprecating snort. “No, but I’ve suffered wobbly limbs a time or two.” Alex could confess that he’d only managed to keep from swooning at the altar because Sussex had placed a steadying hand on his shoulder. But he didn’t want to his bride to think marrying her had given him great distress—even if it were true. At least, temporarily.
“It’s embarrassing.”
He gave her a mysterious smile. “Indeed.”
“I should like to forget all about it.” Liana winced and rubbed her wrist at the memory. “But I doubt Caro will ever allow it.”
“I suspect you’re right about that.” Alex smiled at the thought of Caroline teasing Liana about her fainting episode for the rest of her life. But his smile disappeared when he noticed Liana’s wrist was swollen and beginning to bruise. Her upper arm was also showing the marks of Rather Mean’s fingers and thumb. “How painful is it?”
“It’s not unbearable.”
“Let me see.” Alex took her hand in his to examine the damage. Liana let out a yelp as he ran his thumb over her delicate bones. “It appears to be bruised, not broken,” he said, softening his touch as he probed her tender flesh. “But it’s swelling fast and I’m almost certain it’s sprained.” Reaching up, Alex removed the stickpin from his cravat, then unwound the exquisitely tied linen around his neck and began measuring the length.
“What are you doing?” Liana asked.
“Rendering aid, my lady.” When he was satisfied he had the necessary length of fabric, Alex raised his right trouser leg to reveal a leather sheath strapped to the outside of his calf. He removed the knife from its sheath and used it to slice his cravat in half.
Liana was aghast. Not by the sight of the hidden weapon, but by the damage he’d just inflicted on the exquisite white fabric. “Your valet is going to be furious at what you’ve done to your linen.”
“Beau has seen far worse.” Alex wrapped the shortest length of fabric around her wrist and pulled it tight. “And in this case, I think even he would approve of my sacrifice.”
Liana sucked in a breath as a spear of pain shot up her arm.
Alex winced in empathy. “Sorry.”
“It’s all right.” She managed a shaky smile. “So Beau is your valet?”
Alex tucked the end of her makeshift bandage into a fold and used his stickpin to hold it into place. Peter Beauclerk. He’s been with me since I became the Marquess of Courtland. He’s seen a lot.” Alex finished pinning the bandage and held her wrist up for her to admire. The small emerald sparkled against the snowy white linen. “How does it feel?”
She wiggled her fingers experimentally. “Better.”
Alex measured the remainder of the cravat using the distance from her wrist to her elbow as a guide, then doubled it. He pulled several long strands of thread from the mutilated linen and laid them across his upper thigh where they’d be visible against the dark fabric of his trousers. He knotted the length of the cravat and leaned close enough to slip the improvised sling over her head. “Emeralds have that effect on ladies.” He smiled at her as he slipped her arm through the sling to let her know he was teasing. “Or so I’m told.”
Taking her hand in his, Alex removed her betrothal ring, then picked up the pieces of thread and began wrapping them around the band. When he finished, he slipped the ring back onto her finger where it fit perfectly. “A temporary fix,” he assured her.
Liana met his smile with one of her own.
“And you’ve another emerald for your collection, my lady.”
“I’ll return it when it’s no longer needed to hold my bandage.” Liana watched as he folded her glove and tucked it into his coat pocket for safekeeping.
“No need,” he said. “It looks better on you.”
Liana disagreed. The small emerald peeking from the snowy folds of his cravat had been most attractive, making him even more devilishly handsome. “Wearing emerald stickpins and gentlemen’s cravats in such a manner may even become a statement of fashion among ladies of the ton,” Liana quipped. “Especially ladies unfortunate enough to anger Lord Rothermere.”
“That would be my mother.” Alex couldn’t hide the lines of worry creasing his forehead.
Liana frowned. “Is she another one of the pressing matters weighing on your mind?”
“Yes,” he admitted.
“You’re worried about leaving her with Rothermere.” It was a statement, not a question.
Alex took a deep breath, then slowly released it. “I made her promise she would never be alone with him. And I made Stallings swear he would never leave her alone with him.”
“Would Rothermere dare to harm your mother?”
“I don’t know,” Alex admitted. “I only know there’s no love lost between them and that she’s the only parent I have left.”
“How long have you been taking care of your mother?”
“Since I became the marquess.”
Getting answers from her new husband was becoming more difficult with every question. Remembering the quiet reverence in Alex’s tone of voice when he’d told Rothermere his father had believed it important for a gentleman to learn how to fight, Liana decided that talking about becoming the Marquess of Courtland was likely just as painful as becoming the marquess. And Alex was reluctant to recall his pain. The death of one’s sire had to be painful—especially when one admired one’s sire as Alexander Courtland had obviously admired his. “How long have you been the marquess?”
“Twelve years.”
She sighed. “I was seven years old when you assumed the title.”
Alex nodded. “I had just turned fifteen.”
Liana did the arithmetic in her head. “You are seven and twenty.”
“I am.”
“You look younger.”
“I feel older,” he confessed.
“It’s the responsibility,” Liana told him. “Assuming your father’s title and his place in society, taking care of your mother and your estates and the people on them for over a decade. You’ve had so many obligations placed upon you since you were a boy. It’s no wonder that you feel older than your actual years. I feel the same way.”
“Something else we have in common,” he said.
“Except that I still have both my parents.” She grimaced. “Although today, I’m not sure that was an asset.”
“In your case, I would have to agree,” Alex replied. “But you still have a father. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss my father desperately.”
“Was he ill a long time?”
“He wasn’t ill at all. He was in the prime of his life.”
“What happened?”
“He liked to walk. He said it gave him time to think.” Alex smiled at the memory. “I take after him in that respect. I enjoy long walks. It clears my head just as he always promised it would. My father decided to walk home from his club to our London townhouse late one evening. A group of brigands accosted and murdered him.”
Liana gasped. “How terrible for you and for your mother!”
“Yes, it was terrible. And tragic.” He briefly squeezed his eyes shut, attempting to block the memory. “Upon learning my father had been killed within sight of our own front door, my mother miscarried the child who would have been my brother or sister.”
“Have your father’s murderers ever been caught?”
“Not yet,” Alex replied. “But he will be.”
“He?”
“The man who hired the cowards who did the deed.”
Liana read the determination on her new husband’s face. “You know who it is?”
He nodded. “This morning, you narrowly avoided becoming his bride.”
Chapter Thirtee
n
“You say it as you understand it.”
–Johann Christoph Friedrich von Schiller, 1759-1805
“You believe Lord Rothermere murdered your father?”
Liana’s face went so pale Alex feared she might suffer her second swooning spell of the day. Not daring to say anything aloud that might precipitate it, he nodded his affirmation.
But his wife surprised him. Inhaling deeply, she held her breath, then exhaled in a rush as the color in her face went from pale as death to a robust pink in the space of a heartbeat. “How is it that he is still walking about and not rotting in Newgate or dangling at the end of a noose? How is it that a murderer was able to blackmail my father into allowing him to marry me? Why isn’t the blackguard in jail? What have you been doing for the past twelve years? Why hasn’t he been run through? Or had his head summarily removed from his body?” She stopped long enough to suck in another furious breath. “I wish you had broken his arm this morning.”
Relief washed over him and Alex began to laugh.
Her face grew rosier. She glared at him. “You find this discussion humorous?”
Alex shook his head. “I find you ferocious and a woman cut from the same cloth as my mother.”
“If your mother was cut from a bolt that abhors murderers, bullies, and abusers of women, she and I are exactly the same,” Liana vowed.
Alex managed to swallow much of his laughter, but a hearty chuckle escaped.
“I fail to see the humor, Lord Courtland.”
“The humor is that of all the available young ladies in London, I chose to marry the one most like my mother.”
“And I’ve married a man just like my—”
“Father?” he teased.
She shuddered. “Heaven forbid!”
“Then who?”
“My brother.” She shook her head. “No wonder you rushed to my aid. No wonder you married me. You knew my father had betrothed me to a murderer.”
In more ways than one. But there was no reason to further alarm her when Alex couldn’t prove what he knew to be true. “As much as I hate defending him, your father was probably completely unaware of my suspicions regarding the identity of my father’s murderer. I’ve never spoken of my suspicions to anyone except my mother, my father’s solicitor, and you. And you must never speak of them, either.”
A Bachelor Still Page 13
